


redcity

by seclusion



Series: filtered light [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27427615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seclusion/pseuds/seclusion
Summary: "Now, have you wondered what happens to angels that break the rules?”“Of course I have,” Hinata answers. “But I always thought that well, since we’re literally angels, that wouldn’t happen.”Tooru clenches his teeth, feels his jaw pulse. “I...used to think that as well. But no, Hinata. Angels do break the rules. Angels do commit crimes. Angels do fall.”“Is that what happened to you?” Hinata leans in, unafraid. His eyes now shine bright and earnest, and Tooru has the distinct feeling that Hinata Shouyou is dangerous in ways that extend angelhood.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio & Oikawa Tooru
Series: filtered light [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2005957
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i. do have a playlist for this, but it is very strange. it's [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/41ij92pxTF8ZLNhidCdC5p) if you'd like it. i would recommend skipping "Immersion" by aRIEL, because it is long and intense. unless you're into that.

City burns crimson. 

A hand runs up a pale, white thigh. Bright pearls against a slim throat, slicked with sweat. Fisted hair, wrinkled dress shirt. The subtle contrast of a deep, deep red against the darkest black. A wrist, bearing an expensive silver watch, brushes against sharp shoulders. Smeared lipstick left upon a roughened cheek. 

Electricity crackles through the room. A drumbeat sounds loud. Tooru’s seen it all before. 

He yawns, expansive wings shifting. There’s a dull ache, right where the base of the wings meet the spine of the scapula. A low groan escapes his lips as he stretches, a sharper pain replacing the ache. 

“You...can you finish soon?” 

The man in the center of the dusty room spares him not a look. High afternoon, yet the blinds of the windows are shut and the office is dim. It’s warm, hot, stuffy, filled with gasps and groans and dirty things. He’s comfortable inside. It reminds him of his own apartment, way down below. 

In an hour, red sunlight will flood the room and it will look like a proper, clean office. Tooru plans to be gone before that happens. But his client is dilly-dallying, wasting his precious time. Time he could be using elsewhere. To do...other things. What things, he doesn’t quite know, yet. 

Tooru tilts his head and shuffles his wings again, creating a rustling sound. An auditory reminder. The man, a businessman, resolutely ignores him and continues to feel up the beautiful woman in a red dress. The silk fabric of the dress is crinkled and shifted up around her thighs. She lets out a moan as Tooru’s client, Saito Itsuki, sucks on her neck like a vampire. 

It doesn’t look very pleasurable, he thinks. Finally out of patience, Tooru opens his left hand and wishes. A scroll immediately materializes, unrolling itself and releasing a small puff of dust. He plucks a black feather from a wing and scrawls his name on one of the two blanks at the bottom of the paper. The ink runs a little, red staining the bold black text.

_Once signed, one wish will be fulfilled. The cost is your life. From the time you sign, you will…_

Emerging from his corner, Tooru walks soundlessly over to where his client lies with the woman. He extends his arm and offers the feather pen. 

“Sign it, Saito-san.”

His client stares back at him. His eyes are brown and dead. A leftover bead of ink drips off the tip of the pen and hits the floor with a wet, splattering sound. Saito reaches over the shoulder of the unsuspecting woman and signs his name, nearly illegibly. 

It’ll do; Tooru’s more than satisfied. He licks the tip of the pen, causing it to glow, and inserts it back into his wing. At the door, he looks back and smiles. 

“Have fun with Misato-chan, my dear Saito-san. You’ve a month to do so. Take your time!”

Saito doesn’t even give him a last glance, busy lifting the thin straps of Misato’s dress. 

In the hallway, the air is cool and fresh, smelling distinctly of cotton-scented freshener. His last breath of cleanliness, for a while. Tooru enjoys the thrum of energy in his veins, a million white spots tumbling through his arteries. It always feels good after a signing; he feels power. He admires the vivid color of the sky as he flies out of the skyscraper, wings catching wind. 

He promptly collides with an unidentified flying object. 

The flying object tumbles away in a ball with a squeak, brilliantly white wings arching out in an attempt to slow down. Tooru frowns, thigh throbbing from the impact. Nothing except other demons should be able to touch him, intangible as he was. But he’d checked the rosters--no other of his kind should’ve been in this city today. 

Unless. 

White wings. Bright orange hair. A halo. Even in the red glow of the city, the colors defied light itself, refusing to bow to the red tint. The very fact that Tooru could see orange in this red place--it was unmistakable. Not good, extremely bad. 

Tooru debates on whether to run or to stay a moment too long. The angel has already made its way back in front of him, wringing its hands in worry. The grin it has on far outshines the white sun against the blood-red sky; Tooru almost wants to put on sunglasses. 

“Sorry, sir! Are you okay?” Angel asks, peering up at him. Then, its face twists in confusion. “Wait, how’d you...how’d you even hit me? Why are you flying?”

For a second, Tooru considers attacking the angel and leaving, clueless as it seemed. It wouldn’t know what hit it, and he’d be able to get far, far away. But, alas--he does not. The consequences, unlikely as they were, were far too dire. He simply responds, “You should know the answer to that question.”

“Are you an angel too? Why are your wings black?” The angel is utterly unfazed, staring back at Tooru with unbridled curiosity. Tooru’s eyebrow twitches. 

“You cannot be serious.”

Angel frowns at him and crosses its arms. “I don’t get it...you can’t possibly be an angel. I’ve never met an angel with black wings. Oh, wait,” his eyes widen nearly comically, “you’re part of the Guard!”

As Tooru watches in complete perplexity, the angel throws itself at his feet and cries, “I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean to sneak out! Wait, I did! I mean, I...I”m sorry! I just wanted to have some fun!”

“Rise,” Tooru commands, barely holding back laughter. He’s going to mess with this baby angel for just a moment, then return. It’s not like he has any pressing matters to attend to. Angel instantly pops up, trembling from the tip of his wings to his toes. “You did what?”

“I snuck out to go to the Fields of Varel, but I got lost, and ended up in a jetstream, and came here! I’m so sorry!” The angel’s chin wobbles. Tooru wants to squeeze those reddened cheeks, so badly. Wait, what? “Tobio told me it was fun! I’m so-”

“Wait.” Tooru hisses, gripping the angel’s shoulder. “What did you just say? You said Tobio, right?”

Angel’s shaking under his hand, eyes quickly filling. A twinge of guilt in his stomach, Tooru steps back and holds up his hands. “Calm down! You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Sniffling, the angel says nothing. Tooru bends his knees slightly so they’re eye to eye, and tries a gentler tone. “Hey, what’s your name?”

“H-Hinata Shouyou. Collector Angel, Rank D. I’m sorry.”

Tooru, in a reassuring voice, says, “You’re not in trouble. I’m not in the Guard, alright? They wouldn’t show up here anyway.”

Hinata blinks his glassy eyes up at him, and Tooru wonders how he went from being afraid to laughing to comforting this angel. He could have his own wings ripped off for this, he knows. Angels and demons don’t mix. 

Still, he stays. He holds out his hand. “I’m Oikawa Tooru, your typical Contract Demon. Rank A.”

Letting out a terrified sound, Hinata instantly flies back several meters. “Y-y-you’re a demon?”

Tooru nods. 

Immediately, Hinata shifts his body into a tense stance. His small palm turned upwards, Hinata squeezes his eyes shut. A holy sword, glinting dangerously, appears in his hand. It’s been a few decades since Tooru’s seen one--a weapon that could harm not only humans, but angel and demon as well. His biceps contract as he lifts the sword, ready to attack. 

Tooru holds up a hand. “Wait a minute. Are you trying to attack me right now?”

“You’re a demon! And I’m an angel! Of course I have to!” 

“There’s no way you could beat me,” Tooru points out. In one smooth motion, he leaps the short distance between them and flicks at Hinata’s wrist, the sheer force causing Hinata’s fingers to release the sword. Tooru snatches it easily and points it at Hinata’s throat. 

He expects Hinata to be afraid; to tear up and blubber like he did earlier. But what Tooru receives is eyes of fire. Pure, steady flame, glaring straight into his supposedly pitch-black soul, eliciting an unconscious shiver. Hinata’s still shaking, Tooru realizes. It doesn’t change the terrifying look in his eyes, resolutely staring Tooru down. 

“You…” he presses the tip harder into Hinata’s throat, drawing a tiny spot of blood. At the end of the day, Tooru’s a demon and Hinata’s an angel; Tooru will always be at a disadvantage. This short angel seemed harmless at first, but the expression he has on now tells Tooru otherwise. 

“What?” Hinata doesn’t break eye contact, lifting his head instead. The sword draws a vertical line across his neck. “Kill me. Do it.”

They stay like that for God knows how long, because Tooru’s sure he really does know, frozen in time, invisible to the corporeal world. Neither of them flinch. 

Eventually, Tooru shakes his head. “You don’t want to die. Besides, you know I can’t kill you. That’s unfair.” He retracts the blade and flips it in his hand, wishing it away. It disappears into thin air. 

“You’ve got guts, Hinata Shouyou. I like that. I like _you._ You’re plenty interesting. I can’t kill you, and I won’t.” Tooru turns to leave, but a hand grips the edge of his suit.

Hinata stares up at him, eyes no longer fire but still piercing. “What do you mean, you can’t kill me?”

Tooru lets out a loud, surprised laugh. “You get real bold once I say I can’t kill you, huh?”

Hinata simply waits for a response. From the cut on his neck drips blood, staining the soft brown fabric of his robe. Tooru watches the stain spread, fascinated. Red, crimson red. A blemish on an otherwise pure being. 

The wind carries dust, blowing it everywhere. At their height, the streets below are blurred and indistinct. The dirt has coated all of Tooru’s formerly crisp three-piece suit. Hinata’s somehow spotless; an underappreciated benefit of being an angel. Tooru knows that he’s dangerous. One word from Hinata to the Coordinator and centuries of work would be undone. 

He runs a high risk, talking to this creature. 

“I’ve gotten soft,” Tooru decides, dragging a weary hand down his face. “I’ll tell you, you oblivious thing, on one condition.”

“What is it?”

“You can’t tell anyone about me. Don’t ever mention that you ran into a demon. Never. Do you understand?” 

Hinata nods, face set. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Good.” Tooru drifts lower, settling down on the rough concrete roof of a nearby skyscraper. Hinata sits in front of him, a meter away. Definitely not a safe distance from Tooru. 

“You know that demons are fallen angels, right?”

“Huh?” 

Tooru recoils in shock. “You don’t know? There’s no way.” He peers closely at Hinata. “Are you a born angel or a human angel?”

“A human.”

“How long?”

“I think maybe a century?” Hinata narrows his eyes. “Why are you asking me this? Weren’t you going to answer my question?”

“Slow down,” Tooru tells him, hand ruffling through orange curls. Hinata goes stiff as a board, then relaxes slowly. Tooru stares at his traitorous hand; it listened to an impulse he didn’t suppress. What’s wrong with him, touching an _angel_ of all things? “You need to know that to understand what I’m about to tell you.”

Tooru takes his hand back. “You know how heaven operates like a company, right? You were formerly human so I’m sure you know how a company works. It’s split up into management levels, supervisors and managers and organizers and so on. And a company has rules that everyone needs to follow.”

At this, Hinata nods. “The Angel’s Thesis.”

“Good, at least you know that much. Now, have you wondered what happens to angels that break the rules?”

“Of course I have,” Hinata answers. “But I always thought that well, since we’re literally angels, that wouldn’t happen.”

Tooru clenches his teeth, feels his jaw pulse. “I...used to think that as well. But no, Hinata. Angels do break the rules. Angels do commit crimes. Angels do fall.”

“Is that what happened to you?” Hinata leans in, unafraid. His eyes now shine bright and earnest, and Tooru has the distinct feeling that Hinata Shouyou is dangerous in ways that extend angelhood. 

“Let’s finish the question first, shall we? Heaven. Heaven is like a company, with lots of layers and different jobs. Once you toss out the bad employees, what happens to them? You can’t let them run loose.”

“That’s what hell’s for, right?” 

Tooru bops him right on the nose. “You got it. Us criminals go to hell. It’s basically the same set-up as heaven, except we’re all subordinate to angels. All angels. It’s called the Devil’s Bind.”

Hinata rubs his nose. “All angels? Like...me?”

“Yes, you.”

“So I could tell the biggest demon what to do?” Hinata seems awed at the idea, hands waving animatedly. 

“Well,” Tooru considers the question, “if you got in Satan’s way I think he’d kill you instantly and no one would say anything. But in name, yes, you can do that. Furthermore, if a demon were to disobey or even harm an angel, they’d be put in the Circle again.”

Even Hinata winces at the mention. “Is it really that bad?”

“The first time an angel goes to the Circle, they return fallen. The second time…” Tooru brushes a layer of dust off of his shoulder. “You can use your imagination.”

They stop talking for a few moments, Hinata likely conjuring up gruesome punishments in his mind. Tooru lets the sound of the city fill his ears, cars and pedestrians alike creating background noise. The sky is still a violent red, dark grey clouds dragging across. The red cast of the sky causes the entire city to bathe in the same color, roads and traffic lights and civilians. Everything outside carries a red hue, except Hinata. It’s even hotter than it was in the office; it’s easily 36 degrees. Tooru’s used to heat though, and Hinata is unaffected, angelic as he is. 

“Then, Oikawa-san,” Hinata begins. “Can I have my sword back?”

Tooru chokes on dust, eyes watering. Immediately, Hinata is beside him pounding him on the back, telling him to breathe. He laughs, coughs subsiding. “I’m fine, Hinata. I’m immortal. Thank you.

“You’ve really warmed up to me, haven’t you?” Hinata only blinks innocently back at him, smiling wide. The edge of the smile holds a tint of mischief. Tooru flicks him on the forehead. “Brat. Just because I don’t pose a threat anymore...you really have guts. Yeah, you can have your sword. I’d get in trouble for possession of a holy sword.”

The holy sword reappears in Tooru’s hand. He tosses it to Hinata, who catches it deftly. “Thank you!”

“It’s yours anyway. Say, what model is that?”

Hinata furrows his brow and turns the sword over, examining the hilt. “I think...I think it’s an X-04.”

“That’s new,” Tooru says, raising an eyebrow. “When I fell, they were still using numbers.”

“The newest ones are in the ZS style, and they’ve got all sorts of cool features,” sighs Hinata. “But this is an older one I got from Iwaizumi-san, so I really love it.”

Tooru’s mouth drops open. “You know Iwa-chan?”

“Iwa...huh? I know Iwaizumi-san. Spiky hair, big arms?” Hinata mimes a stern pose, crossing his arms. He leans up to Oikawa’s ear, whispering unnecessarily. “He has this really handsome smile, actually. Everyone likes to see it so we work extra hard.”

There are tears streaming down Tooru’s face from laughter. Hinata looks slightly alarmed, asking, “Are you okay?”

“Same old Iwa-chan then,” Tooru wheezes, wiping his face. “I should’ve known that smile of his would get him places.”

“They call him angelslayer,” confesses Hinata, triggering another bout of laughter. “Really! Last week Hanamaki-san told Matsukawa-san that ‘Iwaizumi needs to use his angelslayer status to get new swords for us…’”

“Ah, even Makki and Mattsun are there, huh? Funny enough, I remember him frowning a lot more than that...angelslayer, hm. If Iwa-chan’s got an angelslayer smile, then you’ve got a demonslaying one, Hinata.”

Tooru glances over, rolling his neck. The angel’s got a stupified sort of look on his face, unable to process a demon flirting with him. Understandable, very. But then, Hinata smiles that exact way again, and replies, “You’ve got a real nice one too, Oikawa-san! It makes my heart do this-” he flails his arms-”thing!”

Before Tooru can wrap his mind around precisely _what_ his smile makes Hinata’s heart do, Hinata continues, “Anyway, how d’you know Iwaizumi-san?”

“You know how he’s a born angel, right? I used to be one too. You could say we grew up together, as much as angels can really grow. Stayed together for a few millennia, until I got kicked down.” Tooru thinks for a moment. “I did wonder how he was doing, but it sounds like he’s fine. Tell him I said hi, okay? Wait, you can’t do that. I told you not to tell anyone.”

“You don’t talk to him?”

Tooru tries to smile at him. “I’m a demon, Hinata. Have you ever heard of a demon speaking with an angel as a friend?”

It must not be convincing, because Hinata pats him on the shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ll tell Iwaizumi-san that you said hello. Also, aren’t you speaking to me right now?”

“No, don’t tell him. He’ll tell Mattsun and Makki for sure, and from there it’ll definitely spread. And yes, I suppose we are right now. Can you really call me a friend, though?”

It’s a difficult question, Tooru knows. Biases don’t disappear easily. Hinata, in all his ignorance of the organization of heaven and hell, must’ve been fed nothing but anti-demon rhetoric for the century he’d been an angel. It’s already confusing that Hinata hasn’t left and is further treating him like someone’s he’s acquainted with. Tooru’s brain wouldn’t be too surprised if Hinata reported him to the Coordinator later, even if his heart would feel slightly betrayed. 

“You haven’t killed me,” Hinata begins.

“That’s not a stellar requirement for friendship, now is it? Besides, I pointed your own sword at you.”

Groaning, Hinata hides his face. “That was so embarrassing! You’re too strong, Oikawa-san. You could kill me and get away with it easily, but you haven’t. That’s why I trust you.”

Tooru regards Hinata, surprised. “You’re more perceptive than I thought, shrimp. It’s true that we’re far apart in terms of strength right now, but I can’t risk my wings getting torn off. Even if it was a point zero zero one percent chance of discovery, I wouldn’t do it.”

“You answered my questions! If you never told me all of this then I wouldn’t know about how angels are above demons, and I would be totally in the dark and swordless! And you actually listen when I talk. Tobio and Kei just--do their thing.”

Tobio, again. Tooru weakens, for just a moment, out of curiosity. “Well then, Hinata, assuming that we’re friends...tell me about Tobio. Please.”

So Hinata does. Tobio is his best friend, a human angel as well. He’s been an angel for almost a thousand years longer, always rubbing his seniority in Hinata’s face (“even though he’s just as clueless…!”). He’s in a relationship with this sour blond angel that’s constantly mocking Hinata. Tobio is fast! Tobio collects and sorts dreams much more efficiently than Hinata can, so he’s always travelling while Hinata stays behind to finish his tasks. (“That’s why I snuck out, ‘cause I wanted to see what he was talking about!”) Tobio makes Hinata mad, a lot, when he takes Kei’s side, but Hinata still loves it when they train together. 

“Sounds like Tobio-chan is doing well too,” Tooru sighs, wistful. 

“Do you know him too?”

“Yeah, I remember him. But it’s likely that Tobio doesn’t remember me, since we met when he was human.”

A white feather is plucked from the tip of Hinata’s wing, catching a gust and swirling over the edge of the skyscraper. “How did you meet him when he was human? Angels can only show themselves when they’re given permission. Did the Coordinator tell you to?”

Tooru spreads his fingers, watching as the spaces between them glow a brilliant red. “I wasn’t told to. I broke the Angel’s Thesis, Hinata. I


	2. Chapter 2

showed himself to a human, out of selfish desire and boredom. Tooru had already existed several thousand years by that time, decades slipping through his fingers like sand. His wings were large and white, and he’d secured an entry-level assignment as a Recording Angel. Eternity was bright. 

Iwaizumi, by his side the entire time, scowls at him. “You can’t do this, Tooru. Don’t you know the consequences?”

“It’s fine, Iwa-chan! Don’t be worried, I won’t get caught. And humans are fascinating!” Tooru gestures below, at the Himalayas spanning the horizon. “There’s just too many things to do down there. I can’t believe humans only have one lifetime to live.”

“You can just talk to the human angels if you want to know that badly. It’s dangerous, going to earth.”

Tooru shakes his head. “Where’s the fun in that? And they forget so quickly...fifty years and they don’t remember a thing! Interacting with the world down there is just the best. I finish all my record-keeping quickly and I have the next couple years free to spend. I’ve talked to cobblers as a knight, kings as a peasant, maids as a suitor.”

“There’s good reason that we don’t interfere with humans. You know that.” Iwaizumi twists his mouth. “Why do you have to take on a physical form? You can stay invisible to them.”

“Interaction, like I said, is the best part. It’s like an addiction, Iwa-chan. I never get bored.” Leaning in, Tooru grins at Iwaizumi. “Lately, I’ve been taking on the form of a boy and playing with this human boy. We’re friends, I think.”

Iwaizumi only smiles, not his angelslayer one, but a tired, resigned one. “Okay, Tooru. Okay. Just remember that you’re breaking the Angel’s Thesis here, yeah? Be careful.”

“I will.”

Tooru sets off for the small town he’s been visiting occasionally for the past few years, laughing in delight as the curving path comes into view. He takes on a solid, smaller form, wings folding and vanishing, plain robes morphing. Skipping down the dirt road, he watches eagerly as a familiar glade comes into view. 

“Oh, he’s not here yet.” Tooru pouts, disappointed. 

In a teenager’s body, he observes how the trees seem to expand and tower over him, casting dappled shadows. It’s different being in a form like this; he feels like he’s here. Not hearing or seeing or tasting more, but grounded and truly aware of the objects around him, in a way that he’s never quite able to grasp when he’s in his angelic form. The impurities that an angel never endures has the added effect of dulling the world. 

Tooru traces the shape of a leaf in the air, watching as golden sparks follow the outline. “I suppose angel benefits far outweigh the disadvantages,” he muses. 

“Seems like they would.”

A black haired boy of around fourteen years or so stands there, hands on hips. He walks over to where Tooru stands, taking care to avoid stepping on the mushrooms littered among the grass. 

“Oh, Tobio-chan! You’re here. What do you mean by that?” Tooru responds smartly. 

“You’re an angel.”

“No, I’m not.”

Tobio gives him a deadpan look and points at the air above his shoulder. “It’s still there, you know. The sparkly leaf.”

“Your eyes are fooling you,” Tooru says as he wishes the sparks away. “Maybe it’s the heat getting to your head.”

“Oikawa, my eyes are working fine. And besides, if it’s so hot, why aren’t you sweating?”

“I...don’t sweat easily.”

“I always thought you were a spirit,” contemplates Tobio. Tooru feels his searching gaze roam over him uncomfortably. “But an angel makes sense. I figured it out since you don’t live near here and no one that doesn’t live here ever comes back every few months. And you’ve never felt very human anyway. You know, your clothes never get dirty.”

Tooru sighs, and gives up the game. “You’re right. I’m an angel. You’re fine with that?”

“Well, now I know you aren’t going to eat me,” Tobio points out. 

“True,” cackles Tooru, openly wishing his shoes away. 

Tobio’s eyes widen slightly as he watches them disappear, but he only says, “What do you want to do now?”

“Only what we always do.”

And so they start, the same way that they’ve started all their adventures: shoes off, running through the woods, wind and hot air on skin. Trees and hills and mountains are climbed, giving scratches to Tobio’s knees and none to Tooru’s. He allows himself to become more and more rooted in his physicality, feeling the burn in his calves and the heat of the sun. It’s harder for him to move, but Tooru is alive, more than he ever is in the sky. 

They repeat this, over and over and over, exploring farther and wider each time. In every day spent with Tobio, Tooru recaptures life with his body. Time drags on like it never has before when he’s away; he impatiently waits through every minute, every second away from a return to earth. In those moments, Tooru understands how a hundred years is enough and yet far too short for a lifetime. 

In the last, sixteenth time they meet, Tooru doesn’t realize it. At the beginning, at least. It’s near autumn, the last trails of summer weakening. They’re standing on a high, high mountain, looking over large patches of trees made small by their height. Tobio’s eighteen now, muscles strong and experienced from years of running and climbing. He tells Tooru about the shopkeeper’s son, a lanky boy named Tsukishima, who’s smart and knows a lot about birds and is occasionally kind to Tobio. In turn, Tooru explains his powers and his limitations, describing how he wishes his wings would grow that one extra inch so he could finally beat Ushijima. 

It’s not until he glimpses a figure, clad in all black, flying toward them that he realizes what’s about to happen. 

Before Tooru can react, however, Tobio slips on a leaf and topples over the edge. A leaf, of all things. Tooru doesn’t think about the Angel’s Thesis, or how he’ll be bound to the Devil’s Bind if he acts; he expands his wings and shoots after Tobio. 

Tooru saves him, of course. There’s nothing the Reaping Angel can do about the lengthening of Tobio’s lifespan. Angels do not kill humans. He looks up, into the brilliantly blue sky, at heaven. She only looks back at Tooru for a long moment, then flies off. 

One time, Tobio had pointed into the distance. “That’s where I want to go?”

“You want to leave here?”

Tobio fixed those large, honest eyes on Tooru’s. “Yes. I want to become an explorer, and find new mountains and travel long rivers.”

“I know you’ll become a great one.”

Tooru’s in front of the Circle. All he sees is a circle of white light in the center of a large, arcing dome, with the Reaping Angel hovering nearby; a witness to his crime. 

“Oikawa Tooru, Recording Angel. Rank B.”

“Yes.” He doesn’t allow his knees to tremble. He makes himself as numb as possible, cuts off all emotion. There is no longer Tobio in his mind. 

“You will fall, for breaking Clause Six of the Angel’s Thesis.”

“Yes.”

As he’s led out, wings already dyed black and halo gone, body already beginning to feel cold, Tooru sees Iwaizumi. He’s openly crying, tears running his cheeks. Tooru only gives him one smile, one that says _I’m sorry. I’ll be fine, and so will you._ He knows Iwaizumi understands. 

He’s cold, so cold; even his teeth have begun to chatter. Tooru prefers the heat. 

He’s cast


	3. Chapter 3

down, into hell. I was reassigned to a lower position, and made my way up over the past few centuries. And that’s basically it. That’s how I met Tobio.” Tooru finishes, watching as a bird swoops low through an alley, barely missing a window. 

“That’s...wow,” whispers Hinata. “You saved Tobio, but got sent to hell? How is that fair?”

“I broke the Angel’s Thesis, Hinata. Not just Clause Six, the extension of human life, but also Clause One, by revealing myself to a human. Who knows how many fate strings I shifted? Who knows how many people’s lives I shortened, how many were never born. Tobio was fated to die that day, but I interfered. And that, interference, is a demon’s work, not an angel’s.”

“Oh.” They’re now sitting side by side at the edge of the skyscraper, feet dangling over the edge. Hinata kicks his bare feet. “It still doesn’t seem fair.”

“Fair or not, consequences are consequences,” Tooru lets out a heavy breath. “It’s okay, really. It’s easier to get promoted here, and I’ve met some interesting demons too. And I’m allowed to interact with the human world a lot more.”

He still loves it, the rhythm of life here. The hum of the city, the sprawling architecture and busy streets. Humans, a constant everywhere he goes. Tooru’s lost all the links to his former home, but he’s been able to carve out a new one, one that he cherishes. 

“I can bring Tobio a message from you,” Hinata offers. “I don’t think he would tell anyone.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s not necessary to make Tobio-chan remember things I’m sure he’s forgotten already.” Tooru has already left the past behind; he does not dwell on events and regrets gone by. When he looks up, he sees only the sky and nothing more. 

He’s here, in the present. Thighs on hot concrete, in a city famed for the unusual color of its sky, speaking. From the second his halo blinked out of existence, horns bursting painfully through his skull, Tooru has stayed only in the now, and faced only the future. 

It’s in the here and now that he watches an angel before him, for the first time in one thousand and sixty-six years. And the angel is unlike anything he’s ever imagined meeting: loud and fearful and brave and open. Hinata Shouyou is Tooru’s today, his greatest risk and his greatest reward. 

“Then, Oikawa-san, can I ask what you were doing here today? Since you already know that I was trying to sneak out.”

“I was doing your typical devil activity.”

“Reaping souls?”

Tooru laughs, carding a hand carelessly through his hair. “No, that’s a job for angels. That’s too much responsibility for demons. I was making a contract.”

Eyes wide, Hinata asks, “Where someone sells their soul for a wish?”

“Yes, except I can’t actually take their soul. All it does is bind their soul on a path to hell.” 

“Who wished this time? What did they wish for?”

“Classified information.” At Hinata’s downcast look, Tooru smirks and squeezes his chin between his fingers. “Aw, don’t look so sad. I’m kidding. This time a businessman wanted his competitor’s business to fail. His competitor’s stocks will drop into the dirt, and he’ll die in a month.”

Tooru, with his hand still on Hinata’s face, shifts his body to the right. Presses his shoulder to Hinata’s and tips the angel’s chin up. “Do you have a wish, Hinata Shouyou?”

“Can...I talk to you more?”

Exactly what Tooru had expected. It’d been a good use of his time; he had made a new friend, flirted around, spilled his entire story. He shoves the uncharacteristic, strange disappointment away and smiles. “Of course. I look forward to the next time we meet. But now, I’m afraid I need to go back. Shirabu will get angry otherwise.”

Hinata nods, face holding a hint of something unidentifiable. They look out over the horizon, breathe in heavy air as low, dark clouds seem to skim distant buildings. The white sleeves of Tooru’s suit have shifted from a cherry hue to an intense scarlet. His wings rise, and he lifts himself up to go. 

“Wait.”

Once again, there’s a tug, a hand that stops him. Tooru turns around only to have another hand sneak into his hair, brush against the base of his horns. He’s pulled down by Hinata, lips pressing against lips. 

Hinata releases his grip on Tooru’s hair, but still keeps a hand on his chest. “Sorry, Oikawa-san. That was my wish.”

A bold strain of jazz drifts up, above the sound of cars honking and crowds. It swims toward them, the string of a kite, twisting around ankles and knees. The sense of life he’s chasing, always has chased, blooms again. Tooru stares at the angel, whose eyes are strong and unafraid. The sun’s in the west, lighting the side of Hinata’s face, carving beautiful shadows in. 

He can’t help it. Tooru lets out a snort. “My greatest reward, truly.”

Hinata’s pout is cut off as Tooru calms the buzzing in his chest by sealing their mouths together again. The buzz converges to a turbulent point in his stomach, then opens into a roiling wave as Hinata’s tongue swipes past his lips and around his tongue. 

“Oh,” Tooru breathes as they break apart again. “Oh, you’ve really got something, haven’t you?”

Demonslayer, that’s what Hinata is. He smiles that terrible smile, tongue darting out, before crushing Tooru again. He’s well and truly destroyed by this pipsqueak. They meet in the middle, again and again, invisible silhouettes against a vermillion sky. 

“You know, Shouyou, I really must go,” he murmurs, chest against forehead. 

“I’ll see you again?”

Tooru makes a promise, his first after one thousand and sixty-six years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forgot to say what the city probably looks like, sorry. it's very [red](https://sm.mashable.com/mashable_in/seo/default/is-that-hell-indonesia-skies-turn-blood-red-due-to-forest-fi_zbj9.jpg) though
> 
> i do plan to add more and make this a series. i think oikawa's a little too complex and their relationship is slightly too shallow to leave them alone. thank you for reading!


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